


imitation is the highest form of mockery

by cori_the_bloody



Category: Never Have I Ever (TV)
Genre: F/M, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Pre-Canon, i do so enjoy writing these kiddos at peak asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27257635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cori_the_bloody/pseuds/cori_the_bloody
Summary: “I give. What are you supposed to be?”Anticipation twitches like a cat’s tail in her stomach, furling and unfurling. “You.”
Relationships: Ben Gross/Devi Vishwakumar
Comments: 10
Kudos: 62





	imitation is the highest form of mockery

**Author's Note:**

> A thank you to Bethany and a happy Halloween week to all!

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Fabiola says as Devi settles onto the picnic bench outside Sherman Oaks Middle School.

“No way,” Devi says, and her head jerks back as Fabiola runs the comb roughly through her hair. “This is the best idea that anyone’s ever come up with.”

“Ooh,” Eleanor says, sitting down opposite Devi. “You’re already in character. Smart.”

Devi grins. “Thank you.”

“Just add a dash of smarminess, and it’ll be perfect.”

“Noted.”

“He’s gonna be mad,” Fabiola says, starting in on one of the braids. “And possibly hurt.”

Devi scoffs. “Yeah right. Ben Gross doesn’t have any feelings.”

Fabiola sighs but doesn’t argue.

“I’m just glad I only share two classes with you guys,” Eleanor says. “There’s drama, and then there’s _drama_.”

“What does that even mean?” Devi asks her.

“It means,” Fabiola says, “that this is a really bad idea.”

“Not for the faint of heart,” Eleanor says.

“You have the strongest heart I know,” Devi tells her.

Eleanor clasps at her chest. “Cute! I mean, I’m still glad I don’t have to spend the whole day with you, but cute.”

Devi snorts. “Okay.”

“Hold still,” Fabiola says. “We only have six more minutes before the first bell.”

###

Devi deliberately takes the long way to homeroom so she can walk past Ben’s locker. She stands behind him and clears her throat loudly.

He slams his locker closed before turning around.

Devi gives him a once over and says, “Mike Wheeler dressed as a Ghostbuster.”

He rolls his eyes and offers her a grudging, “Yeah,” before staring hard at her. “I give. What are you supposed to be?”

Anticipation twitches like a cat’s tail in her stomach, furling and unfurling. “You.”

She watches that register, watches him pick apart her sweater vest and obnoxiously bright sneakers. Savors the befuddled look on his face.

“Well,” he says finally, with a hard smile and just as the bell rings, “I’m flattered.”

“Oh,” she says, falling into step next to him, “you won’t be.”

“I mean, honestly, David. Did you cut your bangs just for this oh-so-clever costume?”

She ignores the question, lengthening her stride to reach Mrs. Anderson’s room before him.

“I hope you’re having a ravishing morning, Mrs. Anderson,” she says, sliding into a front-row seat.

Mrs. Anderson raises her eyebrows at the same time she smiles indulgently. “Can’t complain. Seen a lot of cute costumes so far.”

“That’s where I usually sit,” Ben protests, coming to a stop next to the desk.

“Precisely.”

Mrs. Anderson looks back and forth between them, already wary. “Wh-who are you dressed as, Devi?”

“Well, anyone with a single brain cell would be able to figure it out,” Devi says. 

“Devi,” Mrs. Anderson says warningly.

“But then again, anyone with a brain cell wouldn’t have deducted half a point from the last math test just because I didn’t show all my work. Do I need to remind you who my father is?”

“Um…” Mrs. Anderson presses her lips together.

“She’s pretending to be me,” Ben grits out, the tops of his ears bright pink.

“I got that,” Mrs. Anderson says. “It was not a subtle performance.”

Devi grins.

“Okay.” Ben crosses his arms over his chest. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Take a preemptive Tylenol,” Mrs. Anderson says, already heading for her desk.

Devi watches as Ben trails after her, giggling.

“This has got to be against the student code of conduct,” he says. “Make her change.”

Mrs. Anderson opens up the top drawer, retrieves the well-worn packet, and tosses it over to him. “Make your case with evidence.”

Grumbling, he grabs the packet and then slides into the seat next to Devi.

“Don’t you have that thing memorized by now?”

“Working on it,” he says back, tetchy.

“In the meantime,” Mrs. Anderson says, “tone it down, huh, Devi? This isn’t drama class, so you talk to me like that again, I will give you detention.”

Devi sinks a little lower in her seat, pretending not to notice Ben tossing a smirk across the aisle at her. “Understood.”

“Well?” Mrs. Anderson asks after the announcements are over and the bell’s about to ring. “Did you find anything?”

Ben hands back her copy of the code with a huff.

It’s Devi’s turn to smirk.

On their way out of the room, she gets close enough to whisper in his ear. “Too bad your dad couldn’t see that debate prowess. He’d be super impressed.”

“I still did better than you on that math test,” he says, already back to being self-satisfied and insufferable.

“I am going to break you today,” she tells him.

“Good luck with that.”

###

To his credit, Ben lasts all the way through their penultimate class, when Mr. Maddak passes back their history exams with five minutes to go in the period.

Devi, once again seated in Ben’s regular spot, swivels around to face him in the second row. “Well?”

He shoves his marked-up test to the edge of the table. “Ninety-eight-point-five.”

She juts her chin out. “Ninety-nine.”

“Whatever.”

“Guess Ben Gross is always getting beaten by a half a point, huh?” she asks, grinning.

“I beat you last time.”

“That’s right,” Devi says. “I, Ben Gross, was defeated.”

“Stop that.”

“I, Ben Gross, without a doubt, am the loser in every competition I enter.”

“I’m in first place by a third of a percentage point,” he says, voice cracking just enough for him to turn bright red over it. “I checked last night.”

She crosses her eyes at him. “I, Ben Gross, am an obsessive-compulsive weirdo.”

“Stop that,” he says, getting redder. “You know it freaks me out to look at you enough as it is.”

“I did wear my scariest nightmare today,” she says, holding her cross-eye. “Like, imagine waking up in your scrawny-ass body and being deluded enough to think you’d ever grow a beard or get into Yale.”

“Shut up.”

She uncrosses her eyes and grins at him. “So depressing.”

“Oh, I’m Devi,” Ben says, affecting a falsetto that makes the grin slip off of her face. “I’m used to being the center of attention every hour of every day, so my ego’s the size of Jupiter and I’ll always be way too needy for any guy to want to date me.”

“I’m Ben and my first girlfriend will be a prostitute I had to buy with my dad’s money.”

“Oh, fuck off, David!”

The exclamation hangs in the room for a split second.

Mr. Maddak stands from behind his desk. “What did I tell you two at the start of class?”

“That my costume had better not disrupt class,” Devi says, frowning.

“Which is technically over,” Ben says pointing at the clock. The next second the bell rings.

“Excused on a technicality,” Mr. Maddak says, shaking his head.

“You’re welcome,” Ben says when they’re out in the hall. “I just saved your ass.”

“I’m not thanking you when you’re the one who lost it back there.”

Fabiola and Eleanor come up behind Devi.

“Your costume is what put him on high alert in the first place!”

“I think your _fuck you_ probably contributed, too, dumbass.”

“Great,” Fabiola says, looping her arm through Devi’s and starting to tug. “You guys have learned to share.”

She doesn’t stop tugging until they’re out of earshot.

“You can release me now, you know?” Devi says. “We just passed my locker.”

Fabiola does so, but raises her eyebrows. “Still think this was the _best idea that anyone’s ever come up with_?”

“Are you kidding me?” Devi asks. “He’s pissed off with no clear-cut recourse _and_ I beat him on the test! This is, like, the best day of my life.”

“Plus,” Eleanor says, “there’ll be tons of candy later.”

“Exactly,” Devi says.

Fabiola shakes her head, giving up.


End file.
